Night Thoughts

William Blake, The Inscription over the Gate (1824–27): "Abandon all hope, you who enter here."

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate—Dante, Inferno, canto 3

Outside an endless light extends;

There no public execution dates

Capacities to make amends,

Conniving, much forgiveness waits.

Our aim down here is not alone,

And not devising why's or when,

But content and snug at home

Despite this Jungian 2 a.m.

While my cat besides me purrs,

For here no nightmare vision stirs,

Raising self-appointed rhymes

That will yank me back in time

And my daunting dreams refine

Of an unregurgitated scene—

Since things are seldom what they seem!

My bedside book is Young’s Night-Thoughts,

The midnight feast the ah’s and oughts,

the primrose path, sleep’s guillotine.

April 5, 1794 / December 26, 2024